


Covert

by killbot2000



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Cara to Din: I fucked your mom shitlips, F/F, Femslash February, Helmet rules, I want to see more f/f content in this tag, blindfolded sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22505761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killbot2000/pseuds/killbot2000
Summary: A lull in Cara’s bounty work on Nevarro leads her to visit her favorite blacksmith.
Relationships: The Armorer (The Mandalorian TV)/Cara Dune
Comments: 12
Kudos: 75





	Covert

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory preamble: I don’t know anything about Star Wars at all so if you’re deep into lore I’m sorry. They say fuck. They use some of our slang. I kept it as true to what I know about the universe without doing any research. 
> 
> Happy femslash February here’s your porn. Thank you for reading.

Nevarro never quite returned to the fruitful hub that Karga told her it once was. Cara was hesitant to call it ‘former glory’ given the fact it never gave the impression of such glory. The past streets crawled with Imperial remnants and a Mandalorian covert lurked in the sewers, both with itchy trigger fingers. Every so often the peace would be broken, yet it scabbed over with stubborn resilience. Credits exchanged hands quicker than they could be earned. Still, the Imperial presence had ceased in the city, and Cara could consider that a victory. 

Bounty hunting was about as honest as she expected: shady characters waving money in front of her face until she gave in and beat them senseless. There would always be someone out there who promised more, but without rigid moral integrity her position wouldn’t last. She knew how these things worked, and Karga knew this; it was why he’d hired her. 

“No more bounties today, my friend.” He told her, eyes focused on hers despite his mind wandering to the sounds farther into the cantina. He wanted a drink. It wasn’t the same cantina they’d held out in during the firefight. Karga left that building to finish rotting on the other side of town and Cara had to agree with his decision. It had still smelt of smoke and blood when she entered it. 

“Business that good?” 

Karga shrugged, “Maybe people have decided to start behaving.” 

A pointed smile crossed her lips, “I’ll be back tomorrow when they come to their senses.” The guild leader gave her a two-fingered salute when she left. 

Vendors and other workers crowded the streets in messy rows, uncharacteristically lively this afternoon. The recent dip in temperature could be to blame: with the waning summer Cara even considered buying some undersleeves for her armor. The drone of heat seemed to lower enough that everyone began to hear their own thoughts once more. 

Cara followed the gravel path away from the buzz and heat of the market and into a seedier yet calmer part of town. It was the half yet to be rebuilt from their skrimage with the Imps, and many found their homes or places of businesses needed to be in the charred and blaster-hole riddled remains. She eventually found the Guild’s former favored cantina and entered through the blackened doorway. She ignored the dropping feeling of her stomach when she saw the wall where Djarin was convinced he’d breathed his last, the surface still smeared with his blood. The entrance to the sewers yawned wide up to her, calling her in again. 

She obliged, as it was what she’d come here for, and dropped into the tunnel. The gentle twilight died only feet from the hole she came from, and after a few steps she pulled a flashlight from her belt. 

Her wet footsteps echoed off the walls. She’d memorized the way to the covert after a few visits and more than a few wrong turns that spat her out into the fringes of the city. Cara came upon the main room where the helmets of the covert members had piled high, but now were nothing but a few odd pieces as the Armorer had melted the rest down. The Armorer’s forge was quiet in the next room save for gentle hisses of the molten metal. 

Cara poked around hesitantly, mostly just looking, admiring the hefty tools of the forge, waiting for the Armorer to come around. She usually did. 

“Carasynthia.” 

Cara dropped a pair of tongs on the metal table with an audible clang. She turned to see the Mandalorian leaning on the wall, arms crossed, her gold helmet’s flat eyes boring into her. 

“Hello.” 

The Armorer pushed herself from the wall and began to walk to Cara, “What’s your business here, this evening?” 

A minute shrug moved up her shoulders, the corners of her mouth frowning momentarily. “Bounties ran dry today. Figured you could use a hand down here.” 

“I’m capable of handling the forge myself.” 

Cara scoffed, “That’s not what I mean.” The Armorer stopped walking once close to her. Cara could see her own reflection in the visor. The woman stood a few inches taller than her but it could’ve been due to the helmet, or maybe the boots. “You don’t get lonely down here, do you?” 

She leaned forward set her elbows on the table, taking the tongs up again to study as she waited for the Mandalorian to answer. She’d learned to have patience with them; the answers would come eventually. Cara felt confident in her past experience getting Djarin to open up a little to her, even if it was only a little. The Armorer proved to be a little tougher, though. Her progress was slow moving. 

“Our people are used to isolation. Outside the covert there are those whose trust is conditional. They see us as relics of times past. A challenge, if little else” 

“So you don’t get out much?” Cara asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling, sure the serious woman would toss her into the forage. 

But when she spoke Cara could swear she heard a smile behind the static. “I am grateful for you company, Carasynthia.” 

Cara dipped her head, roguish smile turning into something softer. 

The moment was gone when the Armorer stepped away and approached the forge, setting the remaining armor out to be melted down. “Any news from Djarin? I expect he would contact you before the covert.”

“The covert? You mean you?” 

“We’re the remaining only members for know. I can hope death doesn’t claim him before we can rebuild.” 

“You’re worried about him, aren’t you?” Cara teased. She couldn’t help herself when it came to pushing buttons. Especially when it was the silent and brooding buttons with large ‘do not touch’ labels. 

The Armorer dropped a charred pauldron into the heat. Molten metal did what was as close to a splash as molten metal could do. Cara felt that she might’ve gone too far, but the Armorer knew she cared for Djarin as well, there was no malicious intention behind her words. 

“You’ll be the first to know if I do hear something.”

The Armorer nodded, visor staring into the fire, and said nothing more. 

After a few minutes of silence Cara clicked her tongue and swung her arms somewhat awkwardly. 

“Better get back to the world of the living,” She said, “Suns have set by now.” 

When the Mandalorian didn’t answer decided to call it quits and began to walk back to the entrance and into the sewers. 

The Armorer’s cold voice suddenly came from behind her. “Carasynthia.” Cara turned to look at her. “Why don’t you stay?” It was a question but the Armorer, in her ever so unflinching way, made it a statement. 

That smile worked its way back into her face and she knew it was going to get her killed one day. Up to no good. “You asking me to stay the night?” 

“I can… make you a drink.” 

Cara stood in the entrance, bewildered at the invitation, settling in her thoughts for just a moment. She shrugged, this time using her entire arms. “Can’t turn that down, I suppose.” 

They didn’t share any drinks, as Cara knew the Armorer might’ve been a bigger stickler for their way than Djarin, but she still had a few. There was mostly small talk between them, but Cara couldn’t complain. Eventually the Armorer offered her dinner, nothing impressive, she told her, just what was kept in the stores when the Imps came knocking. 

Cara accepted and sat patiently as the woman dug them up. 

“I trust you don’t need my company for this.” The Armorer told her and Cara nodded, understanding. As frustrated as she felt with their religion at times, she knew what it meant to them. And it meant leaving Cara in the Armorer’s private chambers so she could eat a dry ration pack somewhere in the sewers, or something. She was never the devout type, herself. 

Cara finished her food and began to pace along the walls. The Armorer kept nothing unexpected; a chest at the foot of the bed, thick wooden shelves holding leather bound tomes. One or two spare tools. 

She pulled a book from its place and held it in her hands, trying to make sense of the scrawling font pressed into the leather. She decided it wasn’t a language she knew and returned it to its place.

The bootsteps warned her this time of the approaching Mandalorian. She turned to see her coming into the room. 

“You’ve got some interesting reads.” 

The Armorer didn’t respond and Cara felt her gut clench tight with the prospect of wading through more one-sided conversations. Then she approached Cara, holding her at arm’s length. Cara was sure they’d be the same height if she would just take the helmet off…

“Would you keep me company tonight, Carasynthia?” 

This sentence was a question, genuinely placing Cara between two decisions and awaiting an outcome. It struck her with near complete surprise only because she didn’t expect the masked woman to be so completely forward. 

Cara opened her mouth slightly, then closed it, blinking a few times as if it’d organize her thoughts. Then she stepped closer to the Armorer, crowding into her space. 

“I expect so. You’ve already wined and dined me.” And then she hoped to the stars that she hadn’t misread the situation. 

The Armorer raised a gloved hand and tucked Cara’s hair behind her ear and she felt her chest begin to pound. Cara reached a hand to the belt around the woman’s tunic and pulled her in so that they were pressed against one another. 

“How much of this stays on?” 

A quiet laugh from deep in her chest came from the Armorer, and Cara felt for a second that she may be in over her head. She was pushed back, toward the bed in the corner, the Armorer carrying much more weight behind her footsteps. The edge of the bed met the back of her knees and she pulled the Armorer down with her. 

It was strange, not kissing anyone’s lips, staring into the vacant spaces that were the helmet’s eyes. The Armorer removed her heavy smithing gloves and gently used one to cup Cara’s face. It was calloused and dry, but gentle. 

“You’re very beautiful, Carasynthia.” 

Cara smiled, mostly teeth, grabbing the backside of the Armorer to bring her closer. She pulled on the fingers of her glove to slide the gauntlets off and let them tumble onto the floor. 

“What do you like, sweetheart? How do you like your company?” She moved her hands up under the Armorer’s tunic and squeezed her ass, still smiling. 

The Armorer made barely a noise but grabbed Cara’s right arm, pulling it out in front of her instead. Cara’s fingers found the top of the Armorer’s leggings and pulled them down a few inches, keeping eye contact with the blank mask. 

“Now you’re gonna have to tell me if I’m doing alright…” 

“You’re going have to do something, first.” Came the reply and Cara almost laughed. She felt the woman’s smooth skin with the back of her hand, moving down under her pants. Then her fingertips brushed hair and she turned her hand over to better touch her. 

A sharp inhale came from inside the helmet when Cara placed her fingers just so, not even inside the woman yet. She grinned in her concentration. She rubbed the Armorer’s labia first, teasing, just to hear her breaths come faster. Cara, completely on her back, was now pinned by the Armorer’s hand, holding her hair onto the bed. Cara carefully used her two middle fingers, searching farther into her body, to find her clit. The Armorer pulled at her hair when Cara slid a finger into her. 

“Make some noise for me, baby.” And she followed the first with a second, both middle and ring fingers two knuckles in, as far as Cara could tell. They became slick as she worked them in and back out of the woman’s cunt. 

Then the Armorer wrestled with a strangled gasp as Cara moved faster. She was still dignified as Cara felt up her ass and had two fingers inside her. 

With her free hand, the Armorer unfastened Cara’s utility belt and it fell away to rest on the bed. She pushed her tight shirt up with a forearm, hand moving to reach her breast. The Armorer unclasped the bra Cara wore, thankfully one with a simple frontal clasp, as her hands were beginning to shake as Cara began to experiment with a third finger. She took a bare hand to Cara’s full breast, thumbing over her nipple until it became hard. 

The Armorer let out a high pitched gasp as she approached climax, Cara’s slick fingers moving at a pace that caused her hips to twitch and she felt the urge to grind down to meet Cara’s fingers. 

She moaned fully, this time earning Cara’s satisfaction as she came. The Armorer let go of Cara’s hair and Cara brought her hand up out of the woman’s leggings. She wiped her hand on the side of her own pants. The Armorer stood. 

“You wanna watch?” Cara looked up at the woman and felt herself through her pants. 

“No.” 

Cara raised an eyebrow, annoyed but unsurprised. The Armorer knelt by the chest at the foot of her bed, pushing aside Cara’s knees. She found a long-sleeved shirt and tossed it up to her. 

“What’s this?” 

“Cover your eyes. If you see me, reason dictates that I must kill you to preserve my identity.” 

“Why?” 

“Because,” The Armorer set a knee on the bed and felt Cara through her pants, “It’s respectful to reciprocate, and I love hearing that voice of yours.” 

Cara smiled, saying nothing, and tied the shirt around her eyes. The warm glow of the room left and she saw nothing, only felt the air on her stomach and exposed breast. She heard a gentle hiss of air pressure releasing from a helmet. 

The gentle fingers of the Armorer first game up to her shirt, pushing it the rest of the way up her chest. The bra was tucked by her sides and the hot breath of the Armorer came down on her nipple, warm lips meeting it, tongue circling it with slow motions. Cara felt herself squirming and the Armorer hummed a low laugh. She tried to move her hand to the woman’s head but a hand stopped her. 

“No.” She moved and guided Cara’s hands to her own breasts. “If you must touch something touch yourself.” 

Then the Armorer moved down and off the bed. Cara’s belt already missing, her pants were pulled down with ease. She felt like screaming when the Armorer’s hot mouth met her clit and sucked for a moment. 

“Say something for me, Carasynthia.” 

Cara’s brow furrowed under the makeshift blindfold. “Fuck, I-“ Her toes curled in her boots when the Armorer leaned back down. Her tongue teased at the folds of Cara’s clit. 

“That mouth of yours…” She struggled to form a full thought that wasn’t ‘fuck.’ It proved difficult. 

“...Dangerous, keep going baby. Fuck.” She had nothing to do but keep from writhing and dug her fingernails into her breasts. Cara moved her hips with the Armorer’s licks and soon the woman’s tongue was completely inside her, fucking her, the Armorer’s hands wrapped around her hips, fingers bringing bruises to her ass. 

Cara met the Armorer with another hitch of her hips and she climaxed, letting out a cry. 

Her breathing settled from rapid pants and she laid still on the bed, sweaty, waiting for the Mandalorian to give her some direction. 

“You can remove the blindfold.” The Armorer told her soon after, and when Cara did, her helmet and gloves were both back in place. 

Cara stuck her bottom lip out, “No kiss?” She tossed the shirt to the ground. 

The Armorer let out a short breath in amusement. “Maybe one day, Carasynthia.” 

Nodding, she clasped her bra back together, pulled her shirt down and used a hand to hike her pants back up. 

“Well, if I can’t have that, come to bed. I can can keep you company for a little while longer.” 

Hesitantly, the Armorer came and laid on the bed, facing Cara. 

“C’mere.” Cara told her, pulling her closer, setting the Armorer’s hand on her hip, holding the other in her hand. She tucked her head right up under the Armorer’s helmet, stroking her arm with the other. 

“Thank you, Cara.” 

Cara smiled, “I’ll get that kiss one day.”


End file.
